


di ujung perang

by magma_maiden



Series: heartless, dragonless, sunless [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Naruto
Genre: ASOIAF!Naruto, F/M, Female Senju Hashirama, Female Uchiha Izuna, Gen, Implied Relationships, Lore Snippets - Dragonless, Targaryen!Uchiha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magma_maiden/pseuds/magma_maiden
Summary: on the edge of war, tobirama rushes to save his sister before the princess burns her along with the sacred forest





	di ujung perang

**Author's Note:**

> naruto (c) masashi kishimoto  
> a song of ice and fire (c) george r. r. martin  
> i take no profits from this work
> 
> tobirama is 20 here. set several years after _beringin_ and _madu_. worldbuilding fic; details might change later. reto is the first kazekage in canon.

_ "Run.” _

The silhouette of gigantic mokuton chased him, separating the siblings. Touka’s shouts pulled him to two stolen horses, and they rode away north. The palace issued a bounty for their heads, sharingan users hot on their trails. Their initial destination soon forgotten, the chasers and bounty hunters never let them rest for a long time. They went eastward, then south, then west, then south and south and south…

The scenes of their escape continued to plague his sleep in the last three years. Their father’s execution, Hashirama’s awakening, their separation, and Touka’s death by the Sands border. Izuna had burned her alive.

Tobirama pressed his palms on his eyes. This morning, her desperate plea sounded closer than ever. In some days he wished to bury himself among the scrolls and books in the samurai’s repertoire. But he was Lord Senju, and he had his responsibilities. Which was leading a war against Emperor Madara.

He left the bed, wrapping himself in bear fur. The window panes had turned foggy due to the interior heating. He wiped it using his sleeve, quickly spotting a dark, endless forest in the western horizon. Its trees swayed gently in the wind. The same forest that loomed in the edges of his dreams.

The same forest where Hashirama had disappeared into three years ago.

* * *

“You may join the samurai men in their lodgings,” Uzumaki Ashina said, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve sent word to their leader.”

“Thank you for notifying us,” Tobirama added. “Please rest for now.”

Three pale-faced men shook their heads together. “Thank you for your offer, Lord Senju,” one of them spoke, “but we want to hear her first before we rest.”

They had been riding nonstop from the south, bringing messages from the southern Realm. Civilians began to resist and rebel against the new emperor. Children were dying due to widespread starvation since the Senju’s croplands were decimated. The Palace took every available crops to feed their army, and kidnapped those who refuse to hand over their food.

But their only hope was a rumor.

The only female in the room, a forest-dweller, said nothing to his explanation. Unlike other occupants of the room, she wore thin clothes made of straightened tree bark adorned with belts and bracelets from the same material. None was dyed, leaving its natural greenish brown color alone. The bottom part reached past her knees, and she was barefooted. The cold seemed to hold no effect to her exposed, wrinkled body parts.

She briefly glanced at the crackling hearth before opening a pouch on her lap. “My people have been telling you all the same.” She placed its content on the wooden table. “She is alive.”

It was a lock of dark hair. One of the men drew his breath. They leaned closer, mesmerized.

Senju Tobirama’s dark red eyes bore into the forest dweller’s face, scrutinizing for any signs of lies and deceit. The dweller’s round face turned towards, fearlessly returning his stare.

If the forest dwellers weren’t highly respected by the northerners, he would use his position to make them bring him into their sacred forest.

“Lord Senju, is it real?” The Sandlord Reto nodded at his direction.

Tobirama affirmed, “it has her chakra.” 

“So it’s true…”

“When will she return to us? Your proofs show us nothing of her condition. You could have her chained, imprisoned.”

At his words, the old dweller scrunched up her nose, snarling, “Lord Senju, you would know better not to insult the followers of your honorable ancestor, the true heir of the Realm.”

“We need the Empress immediately!” shouted one of the pale men. “The Realm needs her. She’s the only one who can go against him!”

“Patience!” she growled, and the fires in the room flickered in fear. “Too hasty, and she will die by his hands. Do you wish for it?”

No one needed an explanation on whom she was referring to. Everyone fell silent.

“I think,” Tobirama looked at the pale men, “you really have to rest now.”

They wordlessly left the room, escorted by a young samurai. Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have half of the Realm pledging allegiance to my sister, but she’s not even here.”

“Our army may outnumber his,” Ashina began, “but while he has that susano’o—”

The dweller’s eyes widened. She let out an ear-splitting shriek, causing the three men to cover their ears at once. Tobirama curled as far as he could; his chakra sucked back into his body to protect his senses—

Then her voice ceased. He peeked, finding her mouth still wide open, and her eyes had rolled back into her head. The glasses on the table had shattered, sending shards on its wooden surface. Ashina had jumped from his chair and knocked her out by hitting her head. The elderly now stood beside her, his face unreadable.

Reto lowered his hands, wincing. “What in the name of the Sage was that?” His left ear was bleeding.

“She should be alright. But I don’t know that myself.” Ashina quickly tended to his wounds, green glow emanated from his palm.

Tobirama carefully molded his chakra, nudging the unconscious dweller. Her chakra was in a state of utter panic and confusion moments ago. There was a faint connection with another’s, chakra that felt less human and more like a—

“...Plant?” He found himself saying out loud. Chakra connection tended to develop with an object that regularly received a person’s chakra. A treasured weapon, for example. The Inuzuka clan with their battledogs didn’t even have it. The forest dwellers’ life was still a great mystery for him.

“Can you pinpoint its direction?”

“Southwest—”

Reto left Ashina’s care to the furthest window. Grain of sands swirled around his body as he stood motionless, his eyes closed shut. The wind brought fresh snow to his face until his lips turned bluish, but he didn’t budge even an inch from the window. Tobirama approached to pull him; the Sandlord never lived this far north before, and the wind would be torturous.

Ashina stopped him. “He’s far-seeing.”

Before Tobirama could say anything, Reto turned towards them abruptly. “Sage’s beard,” he muttered. “They burned it!”

“What?”

“Ashura’s forest!” He nodded at the dweller, dashing past them. “They set it ablaze!”

* * *

 

Nobody dared to come closer. Their horses neighed in fear as they sighted the towering flame up ahead. Tobirama left his together with his fur coat behind. From east to west, the once verdant forest had been swallowed by swirls of red and orange, at least half as tall as the Wall. The scent of burnt leaves was strong in the air.

“The fire goes south,” Reto informed him on the way to the forest. He rode while far-seeing. “I can’t go closer. My third eye is at risk.”

“Send words to my men along the way south,” Ashina added. “I have chakra users among them. They could hold the Uchiha back from destroying the forest further.”

Several people from a nearby settlement rescued less than ten dwellers, all had dropped unconscious like the one in the meeting hall half a day ago. “Your sister isn’t among them, my lord,” a rescuer told him. “Curse the Uchiha! This is a sacred place!”

_ She’s not dead yet. She can’t be. _

But where is she? The forest was vast, stretching to the westernmost shores. She could be anywhere...

This chakra-conjured fire wouldn’t die on its own. Luckily for him, its heat had melted enough snow. Tobirama gathered thirty of his chakra users regardless of their nature, and showed them a simple set of seals.

“My lord,” one of them spoke, a frightened boy younger than him, “but what do you intend us to do?”

“Putting it off. Otherwise the fire would reach the houses!”

“But my lord—!”

He went first, conjuring a water shaped dragon into the closest trees. His men directed their melted snow to extinguish the smaller fires and kept the trees wet. They repeated the process over and over, until only three of his subordinates remained. The rest had been too tired to continue.

“Go back and get some rest!” he barked at them. “Rejoin me once you can stand on your feet again!”

“It’s useless!” someone exclaimed, water spiralled out from his palm and dwindled to steam. “We can’t compete with their fire!”

“Keep gathering water for me!” Tobirama replied hoarsely, not once looked away from the inferno before them. With fire this size, no one could run through it unscathed. Tobirama pushed forward, ignoring the heat, creating more water dragons to open a path. He poured more water onto himself, drenching all his clothes through. The cold made him shiver, but only for a bit. The fire wall encompassed him like a wall made of long dyed cloth.

“Tobirama— stop!”

“I have to go closer!” He screamed on top of his lungs as he felt a pull on his coat. “The fire is deeper!”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t!” Reto shook him mercilessly. He’s taller than him by more than a head, making him had to lean closer to whisper, “you’re not some reckless boy barely of age. You’re Lord Senju! None of your family is here.” The Sandlord released him.

“I can manage the fire,” Tobirama breathed, fixing his coat. “My sister—”

“I know we’re all desperate to find her but please, Lord Senju, do not jeopardize your life too.”

Reto wouldn’t let him be go. His powers were useless, so he stayed out of the commotion, concentrating on his third eye to monitor the fire from a safe distance. Tobirama took some steps back, directing his own men who had returned to their position. Villagers rushed with buckets of snow. Other chakra users with fire affinity melted them into usable water for Tobirama. If they couldn’t put out the fire, then no one could enter the forest.

His throat hurt. He had been screaming orders upon orders non stop for hours. The sun rose, and reached its full height without him knowing.

“Uzumaki’s group in the south encountered the Uchiha,” the Sandlord whispered.

Tobirama forced his focus to shift onto him. “How many…?”

“Twenty at least. Ours are of that number. Largely skilled taijutsu users with weak chakra users.”

The outermost trees had been drenched in water, preventing the fire from burning them again. Tobirama’s men could move forward with their buckets. He saw hesitation in their eyes.

“We should go to Uzumaki.” Tobirama turned towards their horses, but Reto held him again.

“He can handle it—”

“The forest is narrower on his side,” Tobirama pressed on. “We can reach the center more easily.”

Reto’s nostrils flared. “You’re not going to back down, aren’t you?” He signaled away one of the men who brought their horses closer. “We’ll leap and stay under my mirage. Deal?”

Tobirama almost grinned.

Reto stayed silent afterwards, except when he relayed more information through his third eye. The fire was burning the northern half of the forest. Uzumaki’s group intercepted the ones tasked to burn the southern half.

They slowed down as they spotted Ashina’s scarlet-grey beard from a distance. At least forty people were engaged in smaller battles. Their attempt to put out the fire was futile, however. Now that it consumed enough trees, it didn’t need any chakra to sustain its life. The elderly fighter finished three men at once when they landed behind him.

“What are you doing?” he hissed at them, but particularly to the younger male. “Return at once, Tobirama!”

“I’ve done enough hiding!” he yelled, his voice louder than the noises of battle around them. The smell of burned leaves was stronger here, making him dizzy. “Let me search for Hashirama.”

“Not with this fire—”

A gigantic golden sword slammed the ground between the three men. Dust and snow flew between them. Reto’s mirage was undone, revealing Tobirama to everyone present as they dodged the attack. Its wielder was a semi-transparent giant of the same hue, whose chest housed a small figure with long ponytail.

“I found you, Senju Tobirama!”

A powerful gust of wind knocked the golden susano’o back. The brief time it needed to get up was used by Reto to shout at him, “run!”

Tobirama called more of his chakra and built a larger water dragon, extinguishing more fire behind them. Faintly, he heard Ashina ordered his men to retreat.

He disappeared between the trees.

* * *

 

What Tobirama knew about the susano’o were the last time an Uchiha Emperor created it happened centuries ago, before the dragons started to fade. Its absolute armor relied on the user’s will. The best way to fight it was by breaking the user’s focus.

Tobirama also knew sooner or later he had to fight the two dragons. Fighting was alright; he was trained to be a fighter and strategist. But he always expected he would have to fight Madara. The rumor of his presence in any battlefields was enough to lower the rebels’ fighting spirit. He kept records of his battles, how he appeared, how he attacked, based on the accounts of those who survived the encounter.

But Tobirama never expected Izuna could use susano’o as well. She never appeared on the battlefield, not on the front lines. He only knew she was responsible for the search of him and Hashirama. During their stay in the palace, Izuna rarely spoke of it as well. There was no need for one as dragons hadn’t been around for ages.

Perhaps Madara had been keeping her powers as secret?

Tobirama took off his coat and glove, dashing through the unburned trees. As he ran, he touched trunks and big stones he passed, leaving odd marks on their surfaces. The wind bite his fingers, numbing almost all of their senses. A flurry of green and black on the periphery of his vision told him that the trees were uprooted in great speed as Izuna’s susano’o chased him into the forest. The mossy grounds and stones underneath were exposed to sunlight.

She was being careful. Each step and attack was calculated with her sharingan. It was easier to burn the entire forest along with him. A sweep of blade, and he would join his family in death.

Yet she didn’t do it.

“Show yourself, Senju!”

The booming and cracking noise stopped. Tobirama climbed a gigantic pine, hiding himself behind the foliages. The golden glow of her susano’o was fading a little. Its size shrank until only its torso towered above the trees. The distance between them was at least a couple hundred meters. The lands behind her had been cleared from plants. Dead trees lay here and there.

Perfect.

It’s a good opportunity to test an art he had been developing.

Tobirama leaped from the branch. The fire, the forest and the sky blurred as he breached the laws that governed the realm. In a blink of an eye, he reappeared more than fifty meters ahead by a rock boulder. Izuna hadn’t spotted him yet when he disappeared again for the second time.

Her susano’o shattered as a water dragon twice its size hit its back. Izuna was thrown from her defense, her lithe body crashed on the snowy ground. She quickly regained her balance, her left knee and palm rested against mossy ground. A sword was brandished in her grasp.

Izuna wiped blood from her temple. “You’re not running,” she spoke, her voice raspy.

Tobirama spread his chakra around, trying to sense if anyone was nearby. But the forest was devoid of animals, save for them. His hand was ready on the waist, ready to slip into his kunai’s handle. “I’ve done enough hiding,” he answered.

“You should be running.”

Izuna leaped forward, her sword was met by his kunai.

* * *

 

Her forte was speed. They trained together several times back then. Tobirama remembered her favorite style, her high speed grip-switching… but not this fast. Her sharingan predicted all of his movements, although he matched her in speed alone.

Many times she nearly struck his vital points— neck, head, stomach. Dodge, dodge, parry. He lost a kunai; two, three, four. There was something animalistic in her movements. Must be the draconic trait the Uchiha inherited from the dragons. 

While their weapons clashed, the princess kicked his stomach. Tobirama jumped back, creating some distance between them. Their breaths froze in the air. The smell of burning leaves heightened, as if trying to shake his focus. Izuna’s feet were hidden underneath her long coat, making it hard to guess her movement.

“Your sister is dead.”

“She’s not.”

“How do you know? You haven’t seen her for years.”

He wondered how did she know that. Then her lips formed a sinister smile.

“So I’m right after all.”

Izuna dropped her sword. Tobirama formed seals. Dragon-shaped water and gigantic fireball burst forth at the same time. Steam rose on that cleared forest, engulfing them with hot air. Her sharingan won’t work well like this. He sensed her whereabouts, sending a flurry of kunai to her direction.

Izuna dodged them flawlessly.

He spotted her sword, picked it up, then set his chakra to the marked kunai he threw—

_ Tobirama!  _

—his blade slashed through Izuna’s armorless stomach.

He let her weapon fell, sensing his surroundings. A group of people approached from the west. Still far, but would arrive soon. Izuna fell face down, her blood pooled underneath. His hand reached forward, hesitating.

Has he done the right thing? The question surfaced in his mind. How fast things were turned. Just a couple years ago they still discussed the lore and culture of the Realm. Just the two of them, amidst the books and away from the mocking scholars.

They were friends, once.

Tobirama believed it was an accident. Izuna believed it was murder and his father had been responsible to it. So she hunted them, sending Touka to her death.

Kawarama, Itama, Touka.

She coughed blood, her gloved fingers curled and uncurled as she tried to get up. Her teeth clenched, blood-soaked. With a wound this deep, she would die in agonizing pain sooner or later.

He had to end it.

_ Tobirama. _

That voice stopped him from reaching to his kunai. It wasn’t an illusion— where did it came from? He stumbled upon his answer as he saw the bark of an uprooted tree. A banyan.

There was a face carved on its surface, and his mark on its left side. The face had a faint chakra signature, similar to the forest dweller who passed out earlier. As his own chakra washed over the trunk, its own chakra became more prominent. More alive. He felt it on his unprotected fingertips, pulsing like a human’s heartbeat— 

Izuna writhed in pain, and Tobirama was reminded to his initial intention. He drew his kunai.

“Princess Izuna!”

Uchiha Hikaku rushed towards them, roaring in anger. His men quickly closing in to catch Tobirama. Nine swords gleamed. He swept the field with chakra, remembering his marks and preparing himself to jump—

The earth shattered. Leafless trees shot from the ground, trapping the chasers between their intricate branches. Their screams became fainter as the trees grew taller and taller, surpassing the unburned trees. Tobirama was ready to flee, his kunai readied by his face, but not even a branch touched him in the slightest. Their color was different than actual trees lying around them.

The trees swayed, dropping the men far to the forest’s edge. Just as fast as their appearance, the ground sucked them back into the earth. Tobirama shivered, but not because of cold. The plant-like chakra was concentrated on a figure walking from the northern forest.

“Retreat! Retreat for now!” Hikaku’s voice rose amidst the commotion. Izuna’s cousin carried her in his arms, still profusely bleeding. Before Hikaku could turn around, Tobirama threw his kunai.

Only to be deflected by a branch coming from the ground.

Hikaku snarled at him, but he wasn’t in a good position to attack. His men were stunned, all looked northwards.

“Don’t go,” pleaded a feminine voice eerily familiar to Tobirama. “I can heal her.”

Hashirama emerged from the treeline clad with a singed fur coat. The right half of her face was burnt. As she approached, Tobirama saw her right leg was also badly burned, her bones were seen. He rushed to her, but she didn’t seem to be bothered by her wounds.

“Sis…”

“Don’t listen to her, Hikaku!” Izuna coughed, her voice was shaky. “Let’s tell my brother!”

“Izuna, please—!”

With one last suspicious glance towards her, Hikaku left. The rest followed him out from the clearing.

Hashirama’s wounds smelled like burning leaves.

* * *

 

“I hate this.”

The samurai’s castle was abuzz with her return. Common folks keep calling her as their Empress, pleading her to behead the emperor. Hashirama smiled to everyone she met, but she said nothing to their demands. All she asked upon her arrival was for a warm drink, new clothes to replace her burned ones, and a room to hold private conversation with Tobirama alone.

He just finished his recounting on the events happened in her absence when Hashirama rose, pacing around the thick rug. “This isn’t how it supposed to be… there shouldn’t be a war.”

His sister had changed. Her chakra was more alive, brimming with raw power more ancient than anything he knew. She had grown a lot; her height reached his cheekbones, making her taller than most women. The wounds on her body healed themselves without leaving any scar. But she hadn’t told him anything of her isolation in the forest.

“There wouldn’t be a war if Tajima didn’t answer our people’s demand with violence, and Madara didn’t continue it.” Tobirama’s eyes narrowed. “Uchiha Tajima beheaded our father. His nephews slain our brothers. Izuna burned Touka. You can’t expect us to stay idle, waiting for them to take our heads.”

“...Touka?”

“Last spring, Sands border.”

Hashirama bowed her head. Tobirama added, barely audible, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She motioned him to approach, then hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re safe, Tobirama.”

He only nodded and stepped back. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing. It didn’t make sense, they were in the samurai’s castle— the safest place in the north. His chakra detected nothing unusual in the room either.

Except Hashirama.

She must had realized it too, because her hand retracted from his shoulder. “What about Madara?”

“Tajima is dying. We heard he demanded his son to be by his side constantly.”

“No, I mean... “ Hashirama leaned at the writing desk. Her voice was softened. “What about my betrothal to him?”

“I don’t know about it,” he answered, hiding his disbelief. They were on the edge of war and she was worried about this fickle matter? She should be grateful she didn’t have to marry him anymore. “I think he doesn’t keep it up considering half of the Realm calls you as our Empress. And wants him dead.”

“...I see.”

He couldn’t understand why she was saddened by the cancellation of her betrothal. Madara was their enemy. “After dinner tonight, our war council will commence,” Tobirama stated, fixing his coat. “We will plan to siege the palace. I hope you will attend…” he paused, “Your Majesty.” Without waiting for her response, he headed to the door.

“Tobirama.”

“Yes?” He gripped the door handle, but he didn’t look back.

“You shouldn’t have hurt her.”

Did she expect him to do nothing while Izuna rushed towards him with an unsheathed sword? Yes they were friends, but friends don’t kill each other. Izuna was an enemy to him.

She might be dead already as they spoke here.

“Izuna was going after me.” The door opened with a creak. “She would’ve killed you next.”

* * *

 

Tobirama was out of breath by the time he reached his own room. He threw his coat unceremoniously, wiping cold sweat running on his skin.

The ancient feeling that lingered around his sister suffocated him. He realized it too late, slowly but surely extending itself around him, stealing all the available air for itself. He didn’t fear her, no— she’s his own sister, sage’s beard, she’s his only living family member now. But what she had done in the forest all these years to have that thing mixed with her chakra?

He had a guess who it was, but there’s no way a person who had been dead for centuries still alive today. Let alone influencing a person’s chakra. What happened to her since her mokuton awakened? Why he didn’t ask her?

It’s hard to admit that her change scared him. She didn’t look happy either; her smiles were tired, forced, or both. No, probably it’s because of war and conflict she heard on the first day she left the forest.

Or because of Madara.

Tobirama glared at the burned forest in the horizon. When they returned earlier, the castle attendants said the forest-dweller had woken up. She was resting somewhere here. He still had a couple hours before dinner. 

He knew where he’s going to pursue his answers.


End file.
